


Talking to the Moon

by godcanthelpyounow



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unrequited Love, except she sleeps, kinda like how sharks die when they stop moving, sea fairy goes into a long sleep, temporary death? kinda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godcanthelpyounow/pseuds/godcanthelpyounow
Summary: Sea Fairy leads a lonely life. Moonlight doesn't notice her.





	Talking to the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from the whole "moon controls the movements of the ocean" and "running water never freezes"

Sea Fairy had been watching Moonlight for as long as she could remember. Her infinite waters reached out for her, longing for something that she could not comprehend. As she grew older, and her waters and consciousness expanded, she began to crave more than the simple pull that kept her awake. 

She never realized she was cold until she knew what warmth felt like. Sometimes cookies came to her waters, splashing harmlessly and sharing their warmth and laughter with her. They held each other in her hair until they choked and spit, coughing up strands as they came up gasping for air and laughing. They swathed themselves in the folds of her dress, floating along her seams heedless of the dangers that lurked beneath. She soaked it all in, curious about the cookies that seemed so young and reckless. It was an addicting chaos.

When the cookies left, taking their blessed warmth with them, she returned her watchful gaze to the being that had been sustaining her for so long, and _wished_ that she would finally direct her gaze downward and look upon the water that reflected her cold beauty so perfectly. She wished that the moon would come down and sprinkle her warmth and laughter within those still waters like she sprinkled stars in the sky. She wished, but it never came to be.

The cookies brought her news sometimes, gossip about each other and creatures she had never seen. She heard tales of a tree that slept for millennia, of a guardian swift as the wind, of a Witch that desired their corruption, of a cookie and her apprentice that searched to help the Witch fulfill her nefarious plans. She heard of petty rivalries, of friendship, of _love_. She wondered if that was what she was missing. Was that what the warmth was?

She talked to the moon of the tales the cookies told her. Tales of heartbreak, and reunion, and recovery. The moon was silent, but Sea Fairy liked to imagine she listened anyway. She often wondered which story was her favorite. She wondered if the moon was tired of her voice by now.

Years passed, _centuries_ , that way. Sea Fairy learned as much as she could from the passing cookies, and relayed them to the ever-silent moon, wishing that _for once_ , the moon would answer back.

She never did. But that did not deter Sea Fairy. Above all, she would be loyal to the being that gave her life. The being she thought she might love.

Eventually, a small boy came. He was swathed in robes and carried a strange stick. He did something to the moon, reached her in a way Sea Fairy never could. She was jealous, but for the most part she was overjoyed. The moon was awake! Her wish could finally come true!

Perhaps her love would be returned?

The boy called the moon down to the beach. Her waters reached for her, an overflowing rush of liquid that carried her dangerously close to the shallows. She had never gotten that close to the cookies before. But her love called to her. She was so close. Sea Fairy longed to hear her voice, just once.

The moon did not seem to notice the water that pooled around her dress, soaking the hem. She spoke to the boy in slow, soft tones. She asked him if he was a Wizard. He carried the Staff, she said, and held the ancient knowledge of how to wake her. The boy said his affirmative, and the moon took his hand, and she…. left.

She and the boy walked away from the beach, far from her reach, and paid no mind to the way the waves reached out to her. She _ignored_ the water that whispered knowledge to her while she slept, that spoke so intimately of its loneliness and how the moon, how _she_ , had been the only thing that made her feel warm. Whole.

She hadn’t felt this _cold_ since the day she had found the moon.

Sea Fairy clutched at her chest and cried as she watched her love and some _child_ leave her alone in the wet darkness of the night. She could no longer see without the moon to guide her way. Instinctively, she knew that soon she wouldn’t be able to move. She did not want to go back to that cloying, suffocating darkness that came before her. Her tears became solid almost as soon as they formed, icy pearls that fell to the ground like hail.

She tried to go back to the water, to retain what was left of that bittersweet heat and motion that had made her feel so alive, but she was already starting to harden. She reached out for the moon, tried to cry out in hopes that she would have enough mercy to return her to the water.

Her cries were silent, and she froze where she stood, a monument of grief that none would understand. She faded in and out of consciousness, unable to stand the pain that came with full awareness in a body so cold. She regretted wishing for more. She wanted to be warm again. She wanted to move. She was almost scared to wish for it, for what if it only brought more pain?

Kingdoms rose and fell around her, and still, she waited. An evil was defeated and reappeared, new cookies came to visit her ocean. None stayed long enough to warm her, even a little.

Until one day, someone did. Another little boy, so like the one that had taken her love away. But also so different. He sat next to her statue every day and built sandcastles. He told her the stories of his life. He cried most times. He told her he didn’t remember anything before the beach. He told her that even though people came by sometimes to check on him, he felt _so alone_. His tearful confessions moved her. She knew what it was like to be so alone, longing for contact. She wondered if the moon had ever felt this way listening to her.

Sea Fairy vowed that she would not abandon this boy as the moon had abandoned her. She allowed the boy to view the wonders that lay between the ruffles of her dress; the dolphins that played about her ribs, the fish that darted about beneath her skin, the great whales that patrolled the knobs of her spine. She gifted him with a shell that would allow him to call upon the friends he so desperately needed, and she tried not to cry when the warmth of his gratitude threatened to overwhelm her.

He was so warm, so vibrant, and it saddened her because _his was not the warmth she needed_. She wanted to curse whatever being had placed her in this predicament. How cruel was it, that the being that had brought her to life and had _forsaken_ her, was also the only one that could sustain her. It just wasn’t fair.

With the small movement his warmth had afforded her, she pulled herself back into the sea and enveloped herself in the last remnants of the moon’s warmth. Even through her anger, she understood what the warmth was. She had had thousands of years to reminisce on it, after all.

It was the basic care the moon bestowed upon all the creatures she looked over in the night. The most base and unattached form of love the moon was capable of giving. She knew she was tempting fate, but she couldn’t help but wonder if, had the moon reflected her love like she reflected the moon, would she have been able to survive even in the moon’s absence?


End file.
